Icarus
by LifeofaWarLord
Summary: Brigadier General Iamar Mastodon, takes interest in helping the Elric brothers. Along the ride, everyone - military and civilian alike- come under risk of a force nobody could have anticipated. And it's up to them State Alchemists to fight, not only for the city, but for all of Humanity.
1. Meeting

AN: I had a nifty idea about this story. Don't know if anyone's thought of it before, but it seemed awesome in my head. Also, the OC's name is pronounced EE-ah-meer. It means 'moon', which will be of significance. When I thought up this character, I imagined Chel from El Dorado (I have no idea why). This'll follow the Manga story line.

* * *

"So he's going after the famed Fullmetal huh? That's what, six victims in only a few weeks?" Iamar asked, blowing the smoke of her cigar through the crack in the car window. Roy waved his hand, nose crunching in disgust.

"Mastodon, Why are you smoking in here? Why do you even smoke?" She smiled, blowing more smoke out her nose. Then she shrugged.

"It's a special occasion Roy. Everyone has met this Elric guy and his brother but me. Besides," she said, flicking the cigar out the window," you fucked my secretary on my desk last week, and she smokes like a chimney, even more now that you won't return her calls. Now you're complaining about me smokin a stogie?"

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, continuing to polish her gun. Roy didn't even flinch, just gave the usual schoolboy smile.

"It wasn't on your desk, it was in your office chair. Secondly, don't compare yourself to the women I bed unless you would like to-"

"Shut up," Iamar said, taking off her uniform jacket. Underneath the jacket she wore her favorite black sleeveless turtleneck and her shoulder holster. On both arms were intricate transmutation circle tattoos that extended to cover both sides of her hand. She'd gotten them upon completion of formal training under her mother. Her mother ran a tattoo out of the city of Dublith, and upon finding out Iamar had a gift for alchemy, she took it upon herself to teach her all she knew. It was at that time Iamar decided to join the military.

Iamar was the result of a multi cultural family, although she looked to be full blooded Ishvalan. Despite her father being an Armestrian soldier, and her mother being from an island somewhere south, she managed to inherit the looks of a long dead relative. Everyone who knew her as she grew up didn't mind, knowing her parents. But that was as far as the kindness extended for her, and as she grew up she learned her appearance would be the root of a lot of trouble. It only seemed t light up her desire for joining the military even more though.

The harassment upon entering the military was infuriating, more than she'd experienced at home. She quickly proved herself to be both valuable and worth respect, however. Anyone who had issue with her learned expeditiously to keep it themselves and get over it. soon into her the in the Amestris military, she cut her hair off, leaving only soft fuzz. This was both a move to save her hair the hassle of having gum and other things poured into it as well as an attempt to she herself a little time to sleep late in the morning.

She was a pretty woman, with full lips and an hourglass frame that was only hinted at when she removed her jacket.

"It's raining,"Mustang quipped. She crossed her legs, running hand over the silver fuzz on her head. She saw their target in the distance, and felt the car slowing down.

"I can move better when my arms are free."

And with that, she hopped out, followed by Riza. She paused momentarily to put the pieces together of what happened between Scar and his latest quarry, the Elric brothers.

Fullmetal's arm - presumably the one that had earned him his name - had been destroyed, and he was on the ground before the mass murderer. Alphonse, Edward's brother, was further off, but also wounded.

_Or as wounded as a suit of armor could be_.

She dug around in the pocket of her baggy uniform pants, grabbing and slipping on her knuckle rings. Before she could move to attack the target, Mustang ran ahead.

"He never misses an opportunity to make an ass out of himself, does he?" Iamar sighed, as she and Riza ran to follow him.

"He doesn't even realize it's raining. Armstrong is on his way. When he's distracted, take care of him. I'll buy time till the others come," Riza said, cocking her pistol.

She saw Roy slipping on his gloves. Riza leaped behind him, knocking his feet out from under him. Just as he fell back, Scar's arm flew over his gelled head.

_Just missed the dumb bastard, thank God._

A car came up to the action, and Havoc, Hughes and Armstrong got out. She ran behind the humiliated Colonel.

"What was that Hawkeye?! I can handle this!" he whined, pouting on the wet ground like a child. Iamar rolled her eyes.

"It's raining, idiot!" Iamar said, nodding at Havoc. Roy seemed to think about it, then hung his head in shame and embarrassment. She grabbed Elric by the back on his shirt, pulling him backwards and away from Riza's gunfire. She popped over his shoulder.

"Edward, nice to meet you! I'm Iamar!" He looked, and she realized it wasn't exactly 'hand-shaking meet and greet' time. She laughed a little, patting his head.

"Maybe later."

Armstrong had taken over on the assault against Scar. He was using some of his most powerful alchemy against him. Which wouldn't have been an issue...if they weren't still in city limit.

"Sir! Please don't destroy too much of the city!"Havoc cried from beside Iamar. Iamar tuned them out, trying to figure out a way to take him out without doing so much damage.

She watched, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Scar was obviously an Ishvalan, red eyes hiding behind sunglasses, as he spouted a bunch of crap about alchemy being an abomination. She watched him dodge Armstrong like it was nothing.

_He's fast as shit. Faster than I'd woulda gave him credit for... obviously means to kill all of us...if he's looking to kill just State Alchemists, some of the strongest are here..but why just us? If this is purely religious, wouldn't he go after any alchemist he came across?_

"Mastodon!"

She jumped, paying attention again.

When she tuned back in Armstrong's military coat was missing in action.

"Why did he take his shirt off?" Havoc mumbled, shaking his head. Scar glanced at the group, then stopped on her.

"An Ishvalan alchemist?" he seemed genuinely taken aback, and Armstrong stopped his attack, letting Iamar take over. She stepped over Ed, cracking her knuckles.

"I guess the same could be said for you though, right? An Ishvalan alchemist?" She stopped a short distance from him, getting into pose. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"An Alchemist?!" Mustang called from behind. The two still circled, but Iamar spoke up again.

"Obviously, ya old prick." She heard Mustang huff at being called 'old'."He's ripped apart all these people usin the Deconstruction aspect of alchemy." She felt the vibrations of his feet moving to attack, and she pushed all of her energy into her fingertips, feeling warmth under her skin as her tattoos began to glow. Scar paused mid run, watching. She took this opportunity to pull the rainwater around them, bending it into a ball.

Moving calmly, she weaved toward Scar, shooting her hand forward, releasing the water to form a whip. It shot across and smacked him in the face, knocking him back. She brought the water back, tattoos still glowing. Behind her, she heard the heavy boots of their reinforcements.

She whipped the water full speed now, knocking Scar further and further into the alley. She looked down at the suit of armor that people often said was what remained of Alphonse Elric.

"Move, Alphonse."

She moved her hands again, shooting the water forward in little pellets, letting it engulf Scar's head. Then she weaved her arms again, lifting her hands to her chest, squeezing them shut. The tighter she squeezed, the more the water hardened, turning into a block of ice. She stepped back to silently admire her work. As she did so, she noticed Alphonse had not moved at all, and picked him up. She heard small protest, but there was no weight to him besides the armor.

She assumed, from all the rumors and descriptions of Alphonse Elric, that his soul was bound to the armor. Which impressed her exponentially, but also made her depressed.

"No worries. I'm Iamar, I'm sorry our meeting had to go like this, but I'm pretty sure neither of us want to be shot by the firin squad." She put Alphonse by the building diagonal to the group, where he rested quietly. Edward looked, but couldn't move to him just yet. She moved past him, to stand by Armstrong.

"He won't die, I left an oxygen pocket. Should last for a few hours, at least 'til he gets to base. It'll slow him down a lot, and I doubt he'd risk blowin his own head off tryin to get the thing off him." She turned, watching as Scar tried to find a way out of the ice block and out of custody. His head moved quickly, despite the heavy ice. She raised an eyebrow at his speed, but said nothing.

"Maybe it would have been better if you killed him," Riza said, kneeling to get a clear shot in case the soldiers behind her somehow messed it up.

"Nah, I make it my business to avoid havin to kill people. I've worked my way this far up so I'd at least have the option, ya know?" She crossed her arms, ignoring the glances from Armstrong, Riza, and Mustang.

Mustang stepped forward, ahead of the squad and the group, turning to her.

"Can he hear me?"

"If you yell, yeah." He nodded, turning to the elusive killer. Scar had quit moving, letting his head hang down, to stare at the ground. The rain stopped, and it was silence as the men awaited Mustang's orders.

"Ishvalan! You are surrounded! You will be taken to Military Court, where you will face punishment for your crimes! I stress this: if you try _anything_, my men will unload their weapons into you! Do you understand?"

Scar continued to stare at the ground, although it wasn't as if he was in a position to do much else. Roy ordered men to go apprehend him. Knowing he probably would try to fight them, Iamar moved forward to join them. He didn't move as he felt them approaching.

When they got close enough, Scar raised his hand up then brought it to the ground in the blink of an eye. There was a loud crackling as the ground gave way around them.

Iamar grabbed the hand of a soldier, threw him onto the street with the others. The other fell screaming, They were falling too fast to throw him over, so Iamar stomped her foot on the block of soil that remained under her feet. It stopped falling, suspended itself in midair. She bent, not moving her feet from their spot, and grabbed the other soldier.

She looked down to see melting ice shards, and Scar running into the darkness.

"Fuck, it's too dangerous to try and follow him down alone. He knows these sewer."

She looked at the soldier, who had wrapped himself around her glowing arm. They had dropped at least 4 feet, and hand another 5 or 6 to go before they hit sewer ground.

"We're going up, mmkay? Try not to move around too much. I need you to let my arm go, though. Get behind me." She heard Armstrong calling her name as the man moved to grab her waist. She inhaled slowly, concentrating on lifting them to safety. The noise around them faded to a buzz as Iamar slowly lifted glowing hands up, bringing their piece of land up with it.

Higher they went, until they were above the hole, and then above the group. She looked down at Armstrong, who was preparing to pursue Scar.

"Don't follow him Armstrong. We did our best. We'll get him." He looked up at her, his blue eyes disappointed. She smiled, but didn't move her glowing hands.

"We need you alive, and we needed him alive. You bought us time, you did what we needed. We're done here for now." She looked out of the corner of her eyes to see Lieutenant Colonel peeping from around a nearby building. The soldier from behind her piped up.

"Uh, ma'am...where's he been? Also, do you mind putting us down now?" She stuck her arms out in front of her and lowered them slowly. The floating mass moved in the direction of her spread arms, to where the remnants of the sidewalk were. When they reached the ground, she moved to stand in front of Hughes.

"If I remember correctly," she started, immediately moving into Hughes face," You arrived with Armstrong and Havoc. Where the hell have you been?" He laughed, waving her inquiries off.

"I've been hiding! A normal guy like me can't afford to sit in a 'believe it or not' episode with a bunch of wackos like you guys! After all, I have a beautiful, angelic, sweet baby daughter to go home to soon and her birthd-"

"Not here Hughes!" Iamar said, cutting him off."We love Elicia too, but now's not the time." Hughes stopped talking, but waved his photo of his family in her face.

Which was just as bad.

Roy came up behind her, narrowing his eyes.

"You were supposed to provide back up Hughes! And you," he turned to speak into Iamar's ear,"I thought that ice would slow him down?!" She rolled her eyes, mushing Mustang's face so she could have some of her personal space back.

"It _did_ slow him down. Obviously this guy is workin with superhuman qualities we weren't aware of going into it. This is our first battle with the guy! What did you do to slow him down, fire boy? Huh?'" Roy's eye twitched, and just as he opened his mouth, Hughes spoke.

"Excuse me, but there's other stuff to do now that the fightings over! I want sketches of this guy all over the city! A man hunt! At once!" He said, pushing his glasses up to his nose. Iamar prepared to lay into him, but Ed interrupted them.

"Alphonse!" He yelled, moving towards his brother. Iamar knew he was dead, he was just resting...hopefully. Everyone turned to watch. Ed shook Alphonse, voice breaking.

"Are you alright Al? Al?"

Then Al punched the shit out of him, lightning fast. Iamar raised her eyebrow, but continued watching )like everyone else) as the two kids began bickering. There was mention of Nina, and Iamar smiled sadly. The two had heart, and seemed to be compassionate. She moved forward when Alphonse's arm popped off, and the pair began laughing. She pulled Mustang's overcoat off of him, ignoring his protest. She moved behind Ed, threw the Colonels jacket over his shoulder and picked up Al's arm. They both looked at her, and she smiled.

"Let's go get you boys fixed up, huh?"


	2. The Ride to Resembool

"So why are you guys coming?" Ed asked, throwing his only arm behind his head. They were on their way to meet up with Armstrong.

"Because somebody needs to watch you two," Iamar said, lighting a cigarette," you guys almost ended up gettin done in by a serial killer...who's still on the loose, and may be looking to finish what he started. After all, he was almost apprehended by some of he most well-known alchemists in the state. I'd think he'd try to go after one or all of them again, right?"

Ed had been looking at her the whole time, sizing her up.

"Well, either one of you would keep us safe. We don't need two of you taking up our train seats," she laughed at that, patted his tiny head.

"Well,_ little one_, we're both coming. Besides, you're small enough to fit wherever you end up...so I suggest to you that stop complaining before I rip your other arm off!"

She blew smoke through her nose. On trips like this, business-casual wear was a requirement. They were acting as representatives of the state, and had to look their very best.

Iamar knew that part of meeting this meant she needed to pull out one of her wigs to hide her silver hair.

Despite her serving day-to-day with the features she was born with, she had to look like a different person when going around strangers.

She chose a black wig that was long and wavy, with thick curls. She put in these things her mom had bought her from one of her trips, called contacts. They made her eyes brown, and it made her a lot less…imposing.

They itched like crazy though.

She was always pretty, she knew that, but still took it upon herself to polish the outfit off with nude colored lipstick, rosy blush, and mascara. She was dressed in a well tailored red skirt suit, with gold buttons and a pleated flair on the jacket. On top of her wigged head was a red pillbox hat with red feathers. She carried a nude colored bag, with nude high heel shoes. She ignored the stares as she led the whining boy to his destination. She was stopped several times, with people asking if she was a model from overseas.

The flattery did little to phase her or change the object her secret thrill. She had been so happy to finally meet the older Elric boy, after hearing so much about him. There'd been opportunities in the past, but Iamar always missed them.

Now that she'd spent longer than two minutes with him, she realized he was just like Mustang, which meant she could poke fun at him with reckless abandon. After he calmed down, he started asking more questions.

"Where's Al?"

"He's with Armstrong, waiting to board with us." He thought about that, then fell silent.

"So...who are you?" he piped up again. She looked down at him. She knew what he asked, but chose to ignore it. She knew it annoyed him, and it made her smile a little. They continued walking, to an office where the rest of the group would be.

"I'm Iamar Mastodon, and I'm your escort to your prosthetics specialist" she said simply, opening the door to the office.

Before he could open his mouth to make another snarky comment, he was attacked by Armstrong and brought into a furious hug. She pushed them into the office, closing the door. She looked to see a crying Armstrong holding Elric to his suit-clad chest, crushing him with his strength...and his emotions. Iamar looked at them, then looked at the others, then looked back at Armstrong before deciding to go sit away from all the tears.

"I've heard about you Edward Elric! You, and your pure love that made you try to bring your beautiful mother back! And the love that made you ready to throw your own life away to transmute your little brother's soul!" Armstrong had dropped him now, trembling as he looked out into space. More tears fell, and those stupid little pink stars floated around his bald head.

"What a mess,"Iamar said out of the side of her mouth, rolling her eyes. Over her shoulder Roy whispered in her ear."You look stunning in red, Brigadier. The color of passion...the color of flames." Iamar rubbed the bridge of her nose, all this cheesy behavior giving her a migraine.

"You're supposed to be decorated men of the military, not a pair of hormonal teenaged girls. Christ on the cross." Hawkeye smiled at that, and Havoc and Hughes snickered.

xXx

After much complaining and fussing from Fullmetal, they boarded their train. Al was packed onto the back as luggage, which made Iamar a little sad and embarrassed for him. Ed was squished on a seat with Armstrong, who was still crying quietly.

She gave him his favorite handkerchief, the light blue one with the bunny on the corner.

She made the handkerchiefs for him, because despite his hulking physique and...eccentric demeanor, she loved Armstrong dearly.

He was her best friend, a result of being shoved headlong to the front lines of war. Armstrong had gone through several emotional breakdowns, and he was never quite the same. He had always been a very sweet-hearted man, but after the war, he carried this immense guilt that warped some parts of his personality.

But Iamar was always soft for him, and they did everything together. Knitting, fishing, training, bar fights...everything. Iamar was never one for extreme emotion, preferring to internalize things. That tendency to internalize, coupled with her abilities, got her to the recently earned status of Brigadier General.

This was not to say that the Brigadier hadn't suffered traumas of her own a result of the events at Ishval.

She looked out the window, lighting another cigarette.

"You can't smoke in here lady," Ed huffed, lowering his window. She leaned over, inhaled, and blew smoke into Edward's face

"Shut up, you one-armed pipsqueak." His chest puffed considerably.

"Who you calling an insignificant ant huh?! So I look like a freakishly small speck to you?!" She laughed, smoking as Ed continued to fuss like a brat. The few people surrounding them in first class watched curiously. Iamar knew they made a sight, with Armstrong hulking and wiping his eyes with a bunny-decorated cloth, a screaming brat with one arm, and a beautiful girl in all red.

A stewardess came up behind them, looking confused about what was going on. Between Ed, her, and Armstrong, she seemed at a loss about where to begin.

"Um, ma'am...you can't smoke in here." Iamar laughed louder, grabbing her bag and pulling out her pocket watch. She opened it, and pulled out a large bill. Ed had gotten quiet, and watched. She sighed, putting her cigarettes back in her purse, and tipping the girl.

"For your trouble. Have a lovely day gorgeous," she smiled, giving her another large bill when she smiled back. The girl, smiling brightly, turned on her heels and walked off with a spring in her step.

When Iamar heard the door to their train car close, she pulled her cigarette out of her bag. The lipstick on the filter was still wet. She lit it, blowing smoke out into the window.

Armstrong smiled, Ed looked at her with mild irritation. Obviously, she was setting a bad example, so she explained.

"I'm the Brigadier General of the Armestrian Military, I've fought in the Civil War...and I'm deathly afraid of trains. So sue me, I need my cigarette. It's probably more than what she makes in a week. Everyone win, you judgmental twerp."

"Brigadier General?" Ed asked, scrunching his face. "You don't look any older than 25!" Still smoking, Iamar smiled.

"Well I'm flattered, but I wouldn't wish reliving your 20's on my worst enemy. It's nice to look it though," she said, shrugging,"I'll actually be 35 in about 7 months."

"Wow... an old lady, huh?" he chuckled. Iamar narrowed her eyes to slivers. Ed was still laughing, eyeing her out of the side of his eyes.

"Are you disrespecting your superior boy?" she hissed, twirling her lit cigarette between her fingers. He shrugged, looking out the window.

"I'm just making observations here. You look young, but you're really-" Iamar put a finger gently on the boy's automail leg.

"Did you know,"she started, tracing the leg,"that metal is in the strangest of places? The human body being one. ."

Ed looked at Armstrong, blushing. She looked at him, a sly smile.

"You remember that thing with the concrete Scar did back in town? The deconstructing the matter back to it's purest form? How about I rupture your only remaining piece of automail, hmm? That'd be fun, yes? To see what the 'old lady' is capable of?"

She stopped tracing, but kept her finger on one of the fixed grooves of his calf. Ed's eyes widened, as the whole leg vibrated. It started quietly at first, before coming to a steady hum. Under the cloth of her red suit jacket, her transmutation circles glowed.

Armstrong shifted, but said nothing.

"What are you doing?"

Iamar smiled, sugary and utterly fake.

"Me, the Grandma? The old lady? Oh, I'm just destroying this _old_ leg, and you can replace this _old_ hunk of junk with more of your money!"

Ed howled, the people around them turning once again to watch the odd trio's shenanigans. Armstrong, reached over, patting her thigh.

"Be nice to the boy. And for what it's worth, you're not old. Not yet."

Iamar took her finger away from Ed's leg, moving it up to poke him in the nose before sitting back.

"Christ lady! You know this is connected to my body, right? Like my actual body?" She flicked her cigarette butt out the window, and shrugged before crossing her arms.

"So's your mouth, but you walk around with that just as recklessly as you do your prosthetics." Armstrong snickered into his handkerchief, and Iamar looked out the window. She shook her head, a smile on her face.

She took her hat, gloves, and shoes off. She hated when she had to dress up for missions like this, she always felt like she was in a costume. The wig, the contact lenses, the gloves she hated it. The clothes were all her, but the rest were meant to conceal her as opposed to polish her appearance. She was appreciated for fighting in the war, but she wasn't appreciated in a sense. What she looked like made her less favorable in the public, and she had to work in disguise or behind closed doors.

After a few hours, dusk began to settle, and Iamar's mind wandered back to things she'd regularly tried to forget.

Memories of Ishval burned into the forefront of her mind.

A large part of her hated herself for everything she'd done there. She'd come to terms with everything that happened, but 'accepting your hand in things' never meant 'the things were okay, or pardonable'. She hadn't broken down like Armstrong, but she broke down. Boy, did she fall apart. For a while, she got through with the knowledge that her parents could continue living comfortably and happily as a result of her sacrifices. She'd told herself that she had just been a hotshot with high-ranking ambitions.

But she wasn't. She didn't care about rank, she still didn't honestly. She'd enjoyed fighting, being in the center of the action. She'd enjoyed hurting and killing to a degree. Of course, when she was on the battlefield, it felt like she was _just_ fighting. Like she'd been caught in the middle of one big battle royale. Like the Valhalla the Vikings so often spoke of. It never processed that she'd killed people or took away parts of them until she closed her eyes. When she'd been awake, she was alive with the adrenaline of fighting. When she went to sleep, she was crushed under the weight of death.

Now that it was over and she (sort of) built herself back up, she hung in a weird limbo. Most of the time she felt a numbness she'd come to enjoy. The rest of the time she felt that crushing weight on her. On rare occasions, she felt the thrill, or even pleasantly satisfied with what was happening around her.

The sun fell, and in the evening glow she felt eyes staring at her. She turned to look at Ed, who looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know where to begin.

Armstrong handed her his handkerchief.

"Wipe your eyes Mar."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She brought her fingers to her face, feeling the wetness of tears. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand quickly. Armstrong moved over, allowing Ed to have his seat. He sat beside Iamar, and she put a hand on his forearm.

Ed didn't speak, but he was smart enough to guess it had something to do with something before his scooted forward, patting Iamar's knee. She reached to hold his hand, the three looking out the window as the train rolled down the tracks.


	3. The Rockbells

As the sun rose, Iamar went and freshened up, changing out of her red skirt suit into a grey one. The suit jacket was a cape, the skirt tight and stopping just under her knees. Her blouse was cream. She changed her lipstick to a deep plum, her blush to a wine color. She decided not to be bothered with a hat, and wore a new pair of blush colored pumps and blush gloves with gold buttons.

She felt tired, moreso because of her dreams than any actual lack of sleep. Ishval spent the night tormenting her, and she felt like she'd lost the battle. Whenever she got like this, she just wanted to go home and curl up in her bed. But they'd be at the Rockbell's home by nightfall, and any bed was just as good as any.

When she came back, Armstrong was unloading their luggage. She paused, watching as both he and Edward hopped off the train. She felt the train jump back to life. She came back to life and ran after them.

"Hey you dumb assholes!" She cried, running after them. The conductor stared at her then the men. Ed & Armstrong ran at full speed, Al in his box resting on Armstrong's shoulder, with Iamar in hot pursuit, despite her 5-inch heels.

They ran until they came to a village, and Iamar's shoes began sinking into the mud.

"Motherfuckers," she mumbled. Then she thought about it, seeing Ed and the man just ahead. She stepped into the grass, then whistled loudly. The town stopped moving.

"Everybody haul ass of the pathway. I can't walk any further in this goddamned mud. So I'm gonna pave the roads for you guys!" she looked at her group,"and if you bastards ever leave me to run after you in one of my favorite suit and shoe combos again, I will drown you. Everybody move!" The villagers looked, then looked back at the obviously angry woman, but obliged her, moving into their homes or the nearest buildings. Animals were tied up along the back of the buildings. within 10 minutes, the main pathways were clear. Cursing to herself, Iamar stepped out of her shoes, walking onto the path with bare feet.

She kneeled into the dirt, glad she hadn't worn hose. Water and metal were her elements of strength, so she had to clap like other alchemist's to accomplish the other things. It wasn't something she did often, especially since her promotion.

But it was slow and annoying nonetheless.

Her arms glowed under the cloth of her blouse, and she clapped her hands loudly. She brought them down into the dirt, and the ground underneath hardened to stone-like consistency, shooting forward till she pulled away. With muddy feet, she stepped onto the new road, that gently sloped up to make it accessible to carts and horses. She did it again, and again, and three more times until the small village was completely paved. Then she came back to the square, to stare at the three men. The village people chattered wildly, some thanking her, but she ignored them. With her suit and shoes ruined, she resigned to wiping her dirty hands on her skirt.

"One of you bastards is paying for my shoes. Cash only, if I receive a check, I will beat you within an inch of your life. Now, what on God's green Earth was so urgent here that you had to almost leave me alone on the train to see to it?! I'm gonna tell you now: no matter what the answer is, it will be the wrong answer." The Elric brothers looked to Armstrong. The towering blonde man took out his little notebook, revealing a picture of a man he'd drawn. Iamar's eyes widened, and she looked back at Armstrong.

"It's Marcoh, Mar," Armstrong said, calling her the pet name they reserved for strictly off the clock. She knew he said it to soften her anger, and she let him, as surprise took over.

"I thought he'd - he's here?" Armstrong nodded.

"Under a false name. He's been healing the townspeople with alchemy. We found out his location."

"He's not gonna wanna talk to us, especially me," she said, looking down at her dirty feet with a smile. Armstrong grabbed a shoulder lightly.

"He'll talk. I won't give him a choice. Let's go," and he grabbed her hand. The village people talked more as they watched Iamar, Ed, and Armstrong walked off with Al in tow.

xXx

Marcoh absolutely, positively did _not_ want to talk.

At least not while Iamar was there, he was too afraid of her and her "hellish ways."

So Iamar smiled, and walked back to the train station. As she did, she walked past a beautiful woman, who looked a lot like her. On her chest was a tattoo of Ouroburos. They locked eyes, smiled, and walked past each other. For a reason that was beyond her, she thought the woman looked familiar. The tattoo was a little weird too, but Iamar paid no heed.

Soon the boys returned, empty-handed and disappointed. They all took a seat, huffing as they waited for the train. Iamar looked down at her feet, her pink nail polish shining in the light. In a way, she was kind of disappointed as well.

She didn't understand why she felt so deeply ashamed when she saw Marcoh, or upset he'd been afraid to see her. He'd been there during the War, and he'd seen the things she'd done. She should have expected it.

Armstrong sat beside her, patting her thigh with his large hand. She looked up at him, and he at her. He understood, and knew sometimes it was better just not to say anything.

Ed explained that Marcoh had made a Philosopher's Stone. That much she did know, although she thought it was exclusively guilt that caused him to leave. He wouldn't tell them how to make it, or help them in any way to gain the stones' power. He was wrought with regret, and didn't want to add to the damage he felt he'd done.

_Can't really blame the guy_, Iamar smiled, _These kids have been through some shit, but it hasn't effected anyone on the scale we have. Gotta admit, I feel kinda bad for em._

"What exactly do you two want the Philosopher's Stone for, anyway?" She asked. She'd always been curious, but never got the chance to ask before. This was her first time meeting them and talking to them. They'd lived up to the rumors so far, but all she'd had up to this point were rumors. She wanted something substantial to know them by. Ed peeked from over Armstrong's broad body, but Al spoke.

"Well, at first we wanted to use it to bring our mother back. But we figured after we'd already tried human transmutation that we had each other this long, and we should work to restore our bodies instead." Iamar nodded, feeling uncharacteristically somber and morbid. Al hadn't gone into the gory bits of their mother's death, or the failed transmutation. His answer was so simple, but Iamar's mind flew away with the details. With last night and seeing Marco, she felt like she was moving backwards through time.

She stared off into the distance, and the beginnings of a migraine smacked the front of her skull. She felt herself becoming anxious, digging a cigarette out of her bag. She snapped her lighter in front of her, flame sparking the tip of her cigarette. She inhaled the smoke, savoring the burn it left in her throat.

"Why do you smoke so much?" Ed asked. She turned to him, blowing smoke through her nostrils. She thought about comparing her smoking to their human transmutation attempt, but held her tongue. The two were nothing alike, and it was wrong of her to do.

"Because it relaxes me." she stated flatly, looking back at the train tracks. The train was coming and everyone stood. Armstrong moved to pick up Al. Iamar looked off to the side, to see Dr. Marcoh running to them. He had an envelope in his hands.

"Ed," she said, pointing to the doctor. She knew he probably wouldn't want to be near her.

Ed got up. Marcoh saw her, but walked to the group. Their eyes met, and he quickly lowered his gaze.

"The information about the Philosopher's Stone is in the location written on the envelope. I know you've been to hell and back, we all have," with that, he turned around and walked back to where he came from.

"I pray you two are able to restore your bodies, and get out of the hell hole that is the Armestrian military." He turned again, just enough to get his profile.

"We've all made mistakes."

He continued walking, this time not sparing a look back. Ed bowed, empty sleeve swinging in the wind as the train slowed in in front of them.

**xXx**

In a day's time, they arrived at the Rockbell home. Tired of the constriction of suit skirts, Iamar changed into a pair of brown trousers with suspenders, boots, and a crisp white shirt. She rolled the sleeves up, happy to see her tattoos after the past few days.

She kept the wig and contacts in, knowing Winry lost her parents to during the war. She thought seeing someone who looked like an Ishvalan and fought in the war to boot would make her uncomfortable.

The old woman, Pinako, was waiting outside for them. A young blonde girl, Winry, stood out on the upstairs deck.

Ed introduced them, and they went inside. Pinako regarded Iamar, but said nothing.

Ed would be good as new in three days, so they'd be staying there. The Rockbell house was full of life, despite the things that had gone on with Winry's parents. They just had such an energy. It made everything so bright.

With nothing to do while Winry worked on Ed's arm, the group dispersed, with Iamar going out alone onto the deck. She looked at the view, lighting her last cigarette. The door opened behind her, but she looked on. Pinako came to stand beside her, and lit her pipe.

"The wig and contacts don't suit you. They look nice, but I can tell you don't really like wearing them."

Iamar smiled, and kept puffing away on her cigarette.

"Your name is famous, you know," she said calmly.

"'The Devil of Ishval'! You sounded like something of a kid's nightmare. Hard to believe such cruelty could come of someone who looks like you ," Iamar looked down at the woman as the sun set in front of them.

"Lemme guess, you thought I'd be taller," she said sarcastically, pulling the wig off.

"I was saying you were too nice looking a girl, but that mouth is fast enough to make me regret it. Winry won't treat you like a leper. she's a good girl, doesn't hold any grudges about the war. So don't worry about offending her or me," Pinako chided, smoke rings floating into the air. She moved to sit on the edge, and patted the spot next to her so Iamar would sit.

Even though she was being scolded, she felt the old woman wasn't doing it to be negative. So she sat.

"Do you regret any of it?" Although Iamar looked anything but nervous, she had puffed through her last cigarette down past the filter. It burned her lips, but she didn't protest, just let it fall to the ground below.

"Everyday old lady," she ran a hand over her head, feeling that same old uneasiness settle in her stomach.

"Well, what are you doing to atone?" She asked simply, handing Iamar a box of cigarettes."I don't smoke em anymore, but I keep em on hand." Iamar took it, slowly, lit up another one.

She had gone through a box in three days, which was unlike her. She smoked, but this was chain-smoking considered to her usual pack in three weeks. This whole trip just brought up terrible memories. It stressed her out.

_These people are pushing me to suicide, Christ. _

"Lady, I've killed over three hundred people _by myself._ There is no apology or penance. That will never make up for the suffering I've caused, ever. I entered the military because I wanted to fight. I was looking for the glory of war they write about in books, the thrill. Then I get sent to fight front lines of a war that started so suddenly. And….I liked what I did. I enjoyed it, did my job well. It wasn't until after everything was done that I regretted it. So, now I get by being delusional and generally indifferent. But there is no making it right, only moving forward hoping the next thing I do isn't just as or even more fucked up ."

Pinako thought about this. There was silence on the balcony for some time as the women sat in darkness. After a while, Pinako spoke again.

"When Ed got his alchemy license, he and Alphonse burned their home to the ground."

Iamar's eyes widened, but she didn't speak. She only heard of Fullmetal after he got his license…_at twelve_. The old woman was telling her that much for a reason.

Behind her, Armstrong shuffled beside them timidly. She reached out for his hand, and three continued to look out into the darkness.

"They're orphans in every sense of the word. I don't understand much about alchemy, but I know what they're doing is incredibly hard. The house was the last thing to go. Their father, then their mother, their bodies, and then the house. With no home, there's no way for them to backtrack now, to be hesitant about what they're doing. There's nothing for them to backtrack to or distract them. Alphonse and Edward are geniuses, and could do enough good to change this country, the world if they wanted," she turned to Iamar and Armstrong,"It won't pardon what you've done, but helping them is probably the closest to redemption you'll ever get."

"I not sure redemption is even a real thing, Grandma," Iamar said, blowing smoke up towards the stars. Pinako grabbed her arm, and Iamar turned to look at her.

"Well then just protect them! If they have to fight, I'm asking you to fight with them, watch over them, and guide them so they can move toward their goal. I have my Winry. But when I go, who will she go to? I'm an old woman, I'm sure you noticed. I won't be here much longer, and I'd like to die knowing that Ed and Alphonse are here to care for her, whether they have all their designated parts or not. I know with you they'll be more than safe, so I'm asking you now, before they go off and get themselves into something that's much bigger than any of us."

Iamar nodded, still holding Armstrong's hand. She could respect what it was Pinako was asking. She had broken up families, wiped out others altogether. The least she could do was keep one intact.

"We'll see to it that they are kept out of trouble, old lady."Pinako nodded, and got off the balcony to walk back inside.

"Come to dinner, I made extra for your large friend here. And in the future, know you two are always welcome."

Looking at Armstrong, she smiled, grabbing the wig as they headed inside.

"Can we really keep them safe?" He asked quietly. Iamar shrugged, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible.

"Who knows? But, who are we to deny the opportunity to help a fellow soldier in need, Alex?" she looked up at Armstrong, squeezing his hand.

"Even devils protect their own."


	4. Tired

Resembool was as draining emotionally as it was uplifting.

Pinako and Winry were wonderful, but it was obvious being home effected the Elric brothers.

Watching Ed with Winry was always funny, the two obviously heading for more than the stupid "brother-sister" relationship they tried so hard to sell. Al played mediator, breaking up fights.

Pinako had taken a liking to Iamar, teaching her few things about automail. It was something Pinako said the young officer took to naturally, as she enjoyed tinkering with and taking things apart, particularly cars and weapons. She had never built limbs, but it was much like building an engine, she figured. Not one to risk permanently scarring somebody for life, however, she settled for making a life size model with scrap parts.

It was calming, it made her focus on one thing at a time, as opposed to her mind running constantly. It made her mind sharp.

So she sat under a light, beside Pinako and Winry, smoking furiously as she worked on her newest project. When Winry fell asleep, Armstrong came in, and the trio talked about the coal miners, funny moments in Pinako's life, and the war.

By their last day, Iamar had crafted a beautiful arm that surprised everyone. She'd engraved the ridges and the grooves by hand as well.

"Wow, if I'd have known you were this good, I would have come to you," Ed said, looking at the polished, smooth lines of metal. Iamar laughed, putting her cigarette out and smiled dubiously.

"Nah, I wouldn't cock-block Winry like that," she heard Winry cough behind her,"Besides, this hunk of junk is just for decoration. Trust me to blow your arm off, and that girlfriend of yours to put it back on."

"Ms. Ima!" She said, slapping her and Ed on the back,"You obviously have the wrong impression! We're just friends That's it! Nothing Else" Iamar, now know to the Rockbells as 'Ima', turned to look at Winry over her shoulder. She was in her best again, in a short navy blue skirt suit with gold buttons and trim. Instead of a wig, she wore her army beret, pantyhose, black heels, and white gloves. She kept her contacts in.

"Look hon, it's my job to get the correct impression about situations, I promise you I'm far from wrong."

"Nonsense! Shut your mouth crazy old woman! Winry is my automail specialist, and nothing more!" Winry looked at Ed in the corner of her eye. Iamar caught it, but turned back to her automail.

"Well, then the next time you ding your arm up, we'll bring your specialist out to see the city huh?" She heard Winry gasp.

"To Central City?! Of course!" Iamar continued polishing her arm, shrugging.

"Then it's settled. Next time your dumbass boyfriend or his brother get maimed, you'll be brought out. I'll send guards for you if I can't come myself." She moved past the now bickering teens, giving the arm to Pinako.

"You have a gift, what do you do in your spare time?"

"I'm a mechanic, run an autoshop in Dublith. I'm there more often since my promotion, I have a lieutenant to shove my work on. I read all my documents in the morning, ditch work when I'm done." Pinako laughed, giving Iamar her arm back.

"Well, maybe you should look into automail repairs as well? You're work is gorgeous, and a backing from Pinako and Winry Rockbell is a good one. When you have time, spend a spell in Rush Valley, get your name some notoriety." Iamar snorted, waving her hand.

"It's just a toy old lady, jeez. My job is to send people your way, not the other way around. Put it in a case or something. I'll see it the next time I come out here," Pinako nodded. Armstrong came down with Al, carrying the few bags everyone had brought.

"Remember what we've talked about. You've obviously grown and learned some things from the things you've done. Use that fuzzy head of yours, and keep your eyes open for our boys here." she moved, hugging Iamar around her thighs. Iamar smiled, bending only slightly to put her hands on the old woman.

"I will Grandma," she moved, letting Pinako hug everyone goodbye. She walked over to Winry as everyone walked out the door.

"Thank you for inviting me to Central City Ms. Ima," she whispered, blushing. Iamar chuckled, hugging Winry.

"No trouble girl, and stop calling me miss. I'm too young for that. I have two homes in Central, you can stay in either one anytime you visit. Just send me a heads up, and I'll leave the key with a secretary who'll take you there. Also, you and Ed-"

"Ms. Ima!" Winry blurted out, face red as she pushed her playfully, Iamar kept laughing as she moved out the door. As she crossed the threshold, Pinako pulled on her skirt.

"Ima," she said. Iamar didn't look at her, but listened.

"You make sure that, while you look out for Ed and Al, you remember to watch yourself." Iamar smiled, small and crooked. She kept walking joining the boys on the walk to the train station.

xXx

They dropped the Elric brothers off at Central, heading back to East HQ. It was rare that Iamar was excited to be anywhere near the building, yet here she was, joyed to walk up the stairs and get to her office.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by General Hakuro. She immediately narrowed her eyes, and Hakuro did the same. She looked to Armstrong.

"Go ahead and go. I'll handle the asshole."

"Good luck,"he said,"we need to vacation together more often." Iamar laughed, and kept doing so until Hakuro was right in her face.

Iamar and Major General Hakuro did not like each other.

Although, to be fair, it was often discussed whether or not Hakuro actually liked anybody. Iamar didn't care though. The old bastard hated her for petty things. Her sex, the way she looked, her rank; it was all the things a Private would gripe over.

And that was enough for Iamar to dislike him.

"Hakuro."

He looked at her, disgust clear on his face. But this was her office, she was respected, liked, and feared by everyone in the office. This included superiors as well as subordinates. He could not say anything out of pocket, and it obviously bothered him.

"Mastodon."

She looked at his ear, smirking as she looked back into his eyes.

"Where have you been Brigadier?" She shrugged nonchalantly.

"One of my soldiers was injured trying to apprehend Scar. I felt a personal responsibility, so I escorted him to his automail specialist."

"Speaking of Scar, I've already spoken to Colonel Mustang, but only because you were busy running amuck in the countryside. Find him. I want results, this branch has crumbled ever since Grumm-" Sh raised her hand, signaling for him to stop speaking. Although he was above her in rank, he was not above her in echelon or pull. His lieutenants brow raised, but the man said nothing.

"I'd suggest you watched that about our young Colonel. An especially that last part about Grumman, old man. He is your superior, after all," she smiled, then asked,"How's the ear?" Hakuro sneered, then walked past her. Their shoulders bumped roughly, the move intentional and so childish it shocked her.

For a minute, Iamar felt she was in a grade school somewhere, as opposed to a military base filled with actual adults.

She laughed, letting it slide.

"It's always nice to see you sir! Have a wonderful day!" She walked leisurely, hands behind her back. Greeting everyone as she went, she went up the stairs. Walking down another long corridor, she turned the corner to see Mustang, Havoc, and Hawkeye.

Mustang eyes scoured her, stopping on her legs. The other three soldiers felt a speech of the miniskirt variety on the horizon, so Havoc spoke up before Mustang had the chance to bust out into his spiel.

"How was it?"

"Resembool was okay, found my hidden knack for building automail...kind of. But don't call me to make you a working arm. How was the ear full from General Dickhead?"

"Useless, we were all heading to Mustang's office." Iamar extended a gloved hand, smiling.

"I'll leave you to it, I have my own affairs to take care of. Catch ya later!" She felt Mustang glance at her again, but said nothing.

She walked into her quarters, where her secretaries looked up in surprise.

"Well, don't just sit there!" she smiled, peeling her gloves off,"How ya been?" The girls smiled, and the doors of her private office swung open.

"Mar! Where the hell have you been?!" Christopher Quinn, her First Lieutenant, came storming out. He was a stocky, well built man, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a sharp, angular nose and high cheekbones, like something the Greeks had written about. He was handsome, rivaling only (at least among the secretaries and Privates) the 'handsome, dark and mysterious' Roy Mustang.

She smiled , throwing her hands up.

"Chris! Baby!"

He stood an impressive 6"3, a full foot over her. But he was a big, soft man. Much like Armstrong, with a strength that sometimes made Iamar jealous.

He stood over her, then took a step back to look at her outfit. Amused that he'd ignored her move for a hug, she put her arms down

"You look like a stewardess. I know Mustang had a fit," he chided, signaling for her to turn around. She obliged, happy to see her friend.

"Eh, you know Mustang. What'd I miss?" Chris scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, Hakuro came in here and gave me an earful about doing your job, said he'd have half a mind to have you demoted and make this my office."

" What'd you say to that?" Iamar walked with the man into her private quarters, peeling off her beret and popping out her contact lenses.

"That it was a kind offer, but no thanks." Iamar sat at her desk, signaling for Chris to make himself comfortable as well.

"I only leave you the work because I know you like it. I'm a people person, and a fighter. I'm bored in this office. I like doing things, going places. You're much better dealing with all the red tape and the logistics of things. We work well together, it's why I made you my First Lieutenant ya know."

"So, where have you been? You usually tell me when you're leaving the city," he asked again, not falling for Iamar's famous dodge tactics. She smiled, kicking off her shoes.

"Resembool. Fullmetal needed an escort to his automail mechanic after going at it with Scar, I needed a vacation," her smile faltered, and Chris caught it.

"You seem refreshed...kind of. What happened?"

She waved off his question, shrugging.

"Ran into some reminders, is all. Old things I thought I left in Ishval." Chris sat back, nodding.

His wife, Fiona, died there. She was a medic who'd been helping the wounded. She was taken by a group of militia, raped, and killed. He was recovering, but Iamar knew he'd never feel the same way about another woman the way he did Fiona.

Although everyone who'd been in the war carried a unique brand of guilt, it's effects were something they could all empathize with, no matter their specific circumstance of evil or death.

"Funny how that kind of thing happens, huh?" He looked over at the far wall, off in his thoughts. "Our anniversary came while you were gone."

Iamar didn't look up from the desk, moving to open the drawer where she kept her good cigars. She took the tin box out, threw Chris one. He took out his lighter, and took a long drag, still looking at that same spot. The office grew silent.

"Does it ever get better?" he asked, after what felt like ages of quiet. The question echoed off the walls of the room, the two soldiers lost in memories of a nightmare.

"You know, after it was all over, I visited the graves. Every year, on the anniversary, I went. When all I could smell was blood, or when I heard nothing but screams, I went. I sat in front of the graves, and I begged for the dead bodies, most of which I killed, for forgiveness. I thought if I went enough, apologized hard enough, it would get better. I thought the weight of everything would get lighter, make my path easier. One day," Iamar moved to the window,"an old woman came up behind me while I was there. She asked 'Why do you come every year?' To her, I looked like another widow, she didn't know what I'd done. So I said to her 'if I apologize for the wrong I've done to the dead, if I repent for my sins, won't life get better for me, easier?'" She turned to Chris.

"What'd she say?" Iamar smiled, turning back to look at the city.

"She says, 'It never gets better, it just goes. Now move!'" She sat back at her desk, cigar in hand.

"It doesn't get better for us, Quinn. Sooner or later, there will be another civil unrest, another war. When there is, we will go in, and we will kill the opposition. Horrible things will happen, a lot we will be a direct cause of. And when it's over, we move forward till we are called upon again. We never get better, we just keep moving." She played with the papers on her desk as Chris thought about that.

"So what about atonement Mar? Do we just never do good?" he asked. Iamar knew what she was saying didn't hurt or cause him pain. Chris was kind, but he was level headed. And they agreed on many things.

"Bad people do good things, just as good people do great things. We fight because somebody needs to, and we carry the guilt so others don't have to. I think," Iamar said, blowing smoke rings into the air," That, despite the guilt we feel, the pain we cause, we do a lot of good. We are...balanced. There aren't a lot of people sitting on either side of the spectrum, it's a few on each side, with most of concentrated in the middle. As long as your aren't a rapist, an unrepentant torturer or mass murderer, or someone who actively or knowingly enjoys causing suffering, then I think you're good at best. Neutral most of the time...desperate at your worst."

The office was quiet for a while. She enjoyed times like this. She didn't consider anyone a true friend unless she could enjoy the silence between conversations with them.

"I've taken an interest in Fullmetal," she said after a while. Chris turned to her, snorting.

"Mustang wouldn't like that." She picked up a pen and threw it at him.

"You have to stop with this Roy shit, seriously," Chris laughed, picking up the pen.

"C'mon, Mar, everybody knows he wants you. He's been with other women, but seriously, the guy's been after you for like...ever. You're 'Mrs. Führer' material in his eyes : strong, likable; soft, but with a hard edge...like old velvet!That's it...you're vintage fabric. Really nice, old fabric." Iamar rolled her eyes.

"Sweet Christ I'm 34, not 80. What is this old shit! And you're my age!"

"I'm kidding Iamar, shut up. I don't even know why you get so fussy about it anyway. You look fresh out of the academy. But I digress; it wouldn't surprise me if you two weren't already hooking up and putting a front on for everyone." Iamar scoffed, sucking the last few drags out of her cigar.

"Fuck you, I don't gotta listen to this shit. Seriously Quinn, the Elric brothers have...idk, but they're gonna be something big. I wanna keep an eye on em. Not in a bad way, just help em. If they need anything, get it for em. I have enough friends to do that."

Quinn nodded. Iamar never denied or admitted the Roy thing, but he knew she never would. Romance was never easy for her to talk about. A big part of it was because Iamar felt like she was on a schedule. She saw herself as some human mega weapon, and thought eventually she'd be put down like a dog.

The other part? She just didn't feel she deserved it.

But she was beautiful, smart, with a good heart. She could cook and clean to boot. She was a little rough around the edges, sure, but Chris hoped she forgave herself enough to settle down. and Roy was a good match for her, whether she ever admitted it. He was a petulant brat, but he was a good man, and the fact she held his interest this long meant something.

He wouldn't push the topic, though.

"So...the Elric brothers huh? What do they want?" He asked.

Iamar laughed, flicking the cigar bud into the trash.

xXx

"Shit, what a week."

She walked into her home, sighing as she crossed the threshold. She didn't realize how tired she'd been until she got in the doorway. Considering how beat, she'd been feeling, that spoke volumes.

She stripped in front of the door, locking it and moving upstairs. The apartment felt warm, despite her absence, but she found it comforting. She pulled her bra off, then snapped the garters of her hose. She moved into her bedroom, past her huge arched window, to her bathroom. Now completely naked, she reached to turn the nozzle on her clawfoot tub, and the shower started. She felt her bones aching for warm water, and she stepped into the bath, not bothering to pull the curtains around her.

For a while she stood there, letting the warm water run over her.

She heard the door downstairs open and close, but she didn't get up. Eventually, she heard the shuffle of feet enter her bedroom. She didn't turn to see who it was, didn't speak.

She was tired, and the water was healing her. Hands wrapped around her waist, and feet stepped into the tub. A hard body pressed against hers, and she felt lips on her ear.

"I had to leave work early because of you and that damned mini skirt." She smiled, turning to bury her face in Roy's shoulder.

"You liked it though. Besides, you're hardly even at work." He chuckled, grabbing the soap behind them.

Iamar didn't move as he washed her off, enjoying his hands running over skin like fire licking up her body.

"Hard trip?" She sighed, shaking her head.

"You have no idea." He nodded,quickly soaped and rinsed their bodies off, carrying her to the bed they'd come to share. He pulled her favorite peppermint butter out, massaging into her skin.

Roy always thought she was beautiful. She sometimes made a fuss about being older than him, but it was not even that big of a time gap.

She hadn't aged much anyway, not even a bit (although he had not aged much either, he recalled with pride). At least notin a physical sense. When they'd met, she was hot-headed and impulsive.

Even more so than he was, which was what initially got his attention. Her temper and her hair. It used to swing past her shoulders like liquid silver. And it remained nice despite having gum or ink or other things put in it. When they were called to the front lines, she cut it all off.

Now, her temper had cooled and she was a little wiser. She'd also gotten weary, and nervous after the war. She'd hidden it, and she'd never talked about it. But for her to be as drained as she was, obviously Ishval had gotten the best of her.

"Do you remember the first time I took you to dinner?" he asked, massaging body butter into her tense thighs. She watched, red eyes tense. He knew she hated talking about things like that, but he also knew it made her happy. Even though she enjoyed brooding, she liked flirtation and fondness even more (she'd never admit that, either).

"You always ask me this," she said, eyes focused on his face. She paused, then spoke,"That old crone of an aunt had a fit. Demanded we settle down, make a family. This was while I was having a fit at you for taking me to a hostess bar." She narrowed her red eyes at him, and Roy laughed. He rubbed his hands up her sides, kissing her stomach.

"She liked you though, despite you being- what'd she say?"

"A bald, fire-head bitch," Iamar said, raising her arms to rest on Roy's shoulders. She looked at Roy's eyes scanning her face as he lay between her thighs.

"A bald, fire-head bitch that I brought home for her to see...and on a first date at that!" He fell, gently, onto Iamar's chest. She wrapped herself around him, the light of her bedroom making her feel inclined to follow the conversation - one he'd started many times.

But it would end the same.

"Christmas was wrong about me, just like you are, Roy," she didn't move, and neither did he. He let out a long sigh.

"It's been almost 4 years,"he started,"I've gotten you this far. You will be my wife, one day." She chuckled, kissing his shoulder.

"I'm not right for you, especially if you want to be Führer. I'm too...imposing. The Führer's wife is soft, and demure...not a tattooed Military Alchemist with a head full of peach fuzz." Roy ran a hand over her short hair, something he enjoyed doing.

"Your hair is so short because you keep cutting it. It grows back, and it grows beautifully. And when I am Führer, you can retire. We both know you don't want to go any further than Major General. Anything higher is too many political games for you. Teach alchemy, play with cars, have my children. And," he added, kissing her hands,"I think the tattoos are sexy." She rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away.

"Is that why you make me fabricate stories about your playboy ways?"

"I don't make you do anything. You're the one whose too afraid of your feelings to admit we've seen each other for almost 5 years." She blushed, mushing his face. He kissed her palm, smiling.

"It's cute you know." she put her hand down, still blushing.

"I don't understand why you live in this fantasy world." he looked into her eyes, and Iamar looked away.

"You're a human weapon, but Mar, we _all_ are. If you think you can't be mine because of some convoluted plot the military's concocted to put you down like the family pet, then you need to stop. I'm the next Führer, it's practically decided. Besides, they just promoted you, and to a rank above mine, so talking like that."

She sighed loudly, going limp on the bed. Iamar was done with this conversation. They were on two separate pages, her "being paranoid", and Mustang "being naïve". It frustrated her, but she didn't want to end it with him yet, and Roy didn't see it ever ending. It was all so confusing, so Iamar preferred to avoid the conversation altogether.

Roy knew this, and it was fine. She was his already, the rest would come.

"...Do you have to work this weekend?" she asked, playing with a stray strand of Roy's hair.

"I can ditch. Are you off?"

She smiled, pulling Roy down into the blankets.


	5. Christmas

Note: Hey everybody! Enjoy! :) Link will be in profile to see the inspiration behind East City brownstone.

* * *

Roy had to go into the office the next morning, unfortunately. He'd gotten up a little before sunrise, and was out the door.

Strangely enough, he didn't even brush his teeth. Roy was never the type to skip little things like that, even when he was just alone with her. Whatever it was had been important.

Iamar rose shortly after Mustang, making herself a pot of coffee with a healthy dose of rum and sugar.

She took the opportunity to clean her home. It was a pretty average building, a multi-level brownstone on a quiet street. With 3 stories, a parlor, and a home office, she was more than happy to grab it. It was furnished nicely, a 'country-style home'. She liked the style, made the house seem like it housed more than just her (and Mustang).

She dusted and swept, throwing everything out onto her back patio. The backyard was small, but she spruced it up the best she could with seasonal flowers and a mat she kept outside to meditate on. Trees separated her home from the neighbors, and a small fence separated her from the next row of houses, moss grew on the fence, and Iamar felt so happy to see her yard so green despite the fact she was almost never home.

The air was heavy, and she knew it was going to rain despite the coming up. She hurried up her sweeping, leaving the dust to wash away whenever the rain decided to fall.

She contemplated making something to eat, but figured she'd probably wait for Roy to come back. Whatever the reason, he enjoyed eating with her. He made a big fuss if he had to eat alone or had to heat something up in the oven, so she just figured it would be less hassle to starve until the Brat Prince returned.

She was cleaning the granite countertops when the doorbell rang. It was early, too early for visitors. She considered ignoring it, but whoever was at her door seemed determined to get in. She threw the rag against her blue checkered back-splash, smirking as she moved down the hall, past the stairs. She stood in front of the door, the chandelier light over her head illuminating the entryway and the parlor to her right.

"State your business," she said flatly, tattoos glowing under her t-shirt. Her bare feet felt the hardwood underneath her hum as she waited patiently for a response. She heard the person on the other side hack violently. She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing.

"Open the door, you walkin Q-tip." The gruff voice ordered from the door. Iamar narrowed her eyes, feeling her brow twitch.

_This old hag? This early?_

"What do you want old woman?!"

There was silence on the end, and Iamar's eyes widened as the knob twisted, then opened without trouble. The woman stepped through, her fur coat dragging on the floor. She relaxed, and her arms ceased to glow. The woman put her bag on the floor after lighting a cigarette.

"Who gave you a key?" Iamar asked, brow still twitching. The woman looked around the entryway to her home, then headed for the parlor. She moved past Iamar, turning on the light. Iamar watched her settle into the dark leather couch, tapping her cigarette into the nearby ashtray. She turned the lamp on, and looked at Iamar for a minute before responding.

"Roy's on business this morning, but you and I gotta talk about somethin."

"What kind of business?" The alchemist turned to watch the older woman's movements, but she didn't move to follow.

"The kind that gets him out of the house long enough for us to talk. An anonymous tip. I don't involve Roy with business that aint his to take care of."

"How'd you get my key, Christmas?" Iamar asked again, not budging. The woman shrugged, puffing away on her cigarette.

"You keep your copies in the most obvious places. Things like that'll get you killed in our line of work," she nodded towards the kitchen,"Bring me some joe. No cream three sugars." Iamar sighed, moving back into her kitchen.

It wasn't often Christmas contacted her, even rarer she actually left the club to do it. Especially with the Brigadier being in East City, and her in Central. She poured the warm coffee, stirring in sugar as steam rose up in her lungs. They didn't dislike each other, per se... but both were pretty rough around the edges. She could respect the old woman though, for her work and her love for Roy, but it didn't mean they were friends.

Sometimes Iamar thought she felt the same way about her.

She handed Christmas her coffee, and the older woman handed her a cigarette. She snapped her fingers, lighting it. She sat down at the piano , directly in front of the other woman. For a few minutes, they were quiet, smoking and sipping their coffee. Finally, Iamar spoke.

"What's this about, old woman?" Chris cut her eyes at her, but didn't move to say anything snarky or rude. She hated being called old as much as Iamar, but seemed to be all business this morning.

"Some friends say you went down to Central to drop off the Elric Brothers not too long ago. Something about a library." Iamar continued sipping her coffee, calm. She'd gotten used to Chris watching her. It hardly came as a surprise that she kept tabs on her.

Despite her appearance, Christmas Mustang was well-connected, and she had eyes on all fronts.

"You came all the way here, at the ass crack of dawn, to talk to me about two teenagers in Central City?" She asked, her brow raised. Chris smirked, blowing smoke into the small space between her.

"I'm hardly the one to visit a backwater dump to talk to an ungrateful cotton swab for little to no reason." Iamar felt a vein on the side of her neck throb, but she said nothing. She could never really be mad at Chris, mostly because they were so much alike.

_It's like looking in a really unflattering mirror._

"I came because I think you should make the trip out to Central,"Chris thought about it," You can decide about the rest later after you see it for yourself."

"See what, Chris? Is one of em hurt?" Iamar narrowed her eyes again, gulping down her coffee. Chris shook her head, dumping the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. She looked past Iamar, around the room. She obviously liked the chandelier that was in the parlor, but wasn't particularly fond of the paint job, at least from what Iamar could discern.

"Did Roy approve of the color?" She said, grimacing. "And this wallpaper..ugh. You'd think he'd wanna have a lil more say in the deco-" Iamar cut her off, shaking her head vigorously. There was a faint blush on her face, and she felt the vein in her neck throbbing again.

"Roy doesn't live here. We've never shacked up." Chris cut her off with a cackle, that quickly turned into a retching cough. She still wheezed with laughter, waving her hand.

"You're in his boxers, his shoes are in the entryway, and I saw one of his overcoats thrown on the stair rail. Next you're gonna tell me you guys aint together at all!" She cackled again, setting her coffee on the table.

"Just cause he bought a place don't mean he live there. Baby, you gotta get over whatever that denial thing is." She continued laughing, and Iamar rolled her eyes, clearing her throat.

"The Elrics, Chris. Not my choice in home decor, not me and Roy. The Elric brothers. Ya know, the thing you came this far out to tell me about in the first place?" Christmas nodded, calming herself down.

"From what my sources have told me, they're fine. But if you had plans on them goin to that library or whatever, you're outta luck. It burned down a day before the night you dropped em off."

Iamar took her cigarette out of her mouth, and eyed Chris very carefully.

"Burned down?" Chris nodded.

"They're just saying it was an accident...but you know as well as anyone else that's too big a coincidence."

"You thinking somebody doesn't want those boys reading anything in there?" Chris snorted, rolling her eyes.

"And here I thought you were stupid. Of course! Listen Q-tip, I don't have all the pieces, but if somebody is burnin State buildings hours before your subordinates are supposed to go there...it usually means some other shit is afoot. I figured since you took em around the countryside, you'd be interested to know somebody's trying to keep em from learnin whatever it is they need to know. " Iamar nodded.

"That it?"

"Nah, I came to ask you somethin else. That auto shop in Dublith, it still running?" Iamar paused, but nodded as smoke cascaded out of her nose.

"When's the last time ya visited?"

"About a month ago…why?"

"I wanna keep some girls there. Same purpose you keep those boys running it for you." Iamar smiled, crossing her legs on the bench.

"I don't need anymore eyes in Dublith, Christmas."

"You _always_ need more eyes, little girl. That bein said, I was thinking about expanding it's uses. I got a feeling little shit like this is gonna be poppin up all over, makin a mess of things. I understand there's a basement in that shop...maybe put some beds in. Stock up on food there. Call in some favors." Chris waggled her brow, but Iamar didn't speak. The older woman then stood up and thrust her coffee cup into Iamar's face.

"Coffee tasted like shit. It was nice talking to you Selene, I expect we keep in touch" she said, grabbing her bag.

"Don't call me that." She pouted. It was Iamar's codename, the name Roy had given her in his little Black Book. Given her parents names, she found the codename eerie. She watched Christmas as she paused in the entryway, smiling to look down at Roy's shoes, neatly arranged and polished.

"You take care of my boy," she turned to Iamar,"and you watch out for yourself."

A ghost of a smile passed her lips, as she remembered Pinako telling her the very same thing.

_God, these military families are a broken record…first the Elrics, now Roy. What am I, the babysitter? _

Chris threw Iamar's spare key to her, and she opened the door.

"Remember what I said about those keys."

The door shut behind her, and Iamar sat in her parlor. She went to the kitchen, grabbing the receiver of the phone. She paused, deciding on who to dial first.

She rotated the numbers, then waited for the dial tone. She didn't wait long, and shortly groggy man's voice filled her ear.

"Do you have -"

"That doesn't matter. Tell ma I'm coming home tomorrow."

With that, she hung up the phone, and moved to run upstairs


	6. Coffee

AN: I'd like to give a huge thank you to user **missantagonist1** for all the help! An angel is what you are, I tell ya.

* * *

"So, this is all they found?"

The pair was standing at the mouth of the explosion, eyes scouring the damage done.

There had once been an old complex, but all that was there was rubble. Riza called the house earlier, telling him to high tail it over. He thought about waking up Iamar, but thought better of it. She'd been in one of her moods, seeing this would have only aggravated it. And when she got really bad, it was hard to gauge when she'd come back around.

Roy sucked on his peppermint, brow furrowed. He'd brushed his teeth in the car, but the candy made him feel better about not brushing right away. He _hated_ filth, and skipping brushing his teeth made his skin crawl.

But this was important. Riza removed a glove, looking at the jacket again. There'd been a Scar sighting last night, reported by anonymous tip. Early this morning, there'd been an explosion. At first, the authorities thought it'd been terrorists. The only trace that anyone had been in the rubble lay on the ground in front of them. This was a huge step in the case, maybe even the closing factor.

"Lieutenant..how'd you know to call Selene's home phone?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye before looking away. It probably wasn't the best time for those kind of questions, but he was curious anyway. Riza knew of the relationship, but he had not told her where he'd be.

"I'm your bodyguard Colonel. It's my job to know where you are at all times. Now, that definitely looks like Scar's jacket. By the looks of it, he's sustained heavy damage."

The rubble, still smoking, blocked the light of the rising sun. The air was crisp, blowing over him. By all accounts, it was shaping up to be a lovely day. He thought briefly of the smell of pancakes, and of Iamar's sleepy smile. He'd been planning to have a nice, quiet weekend. Now, he wasn't sure when he could expect to be home.

He inhaled, deep and slowly. This, he told himself, was part of the job. His plans didn't take precedent over work- at least, not today. He focused, turning his mind back to the rubble, imagining where Scar could have gone.

_Nobody could get far with that much blood loss, most of it's still wet. If he made it out of the explosion, he should be around her somewhere._ He turned to Riza, who was already awaiting his order.

"Hawkeye, we're to remain on guard till the death is confirmed. Havoc! Get your men, pick this place apart. No breaks! We find him, and we find him tonight!"

He turned his back to the rubble, heading to his car.

"You're not staying?" She asked, following him.

"I have a report to fill out. Central Brass has been up our asses about this. The sooner we get it done, the sooner they leave us alone. Hakuro was only the beginning. If Scar isn't apprehended or found dead soon, the Führer may come down here himself, and that's the last thing I need."

Roy opened the car door, allowing his Lieutenant to climb in before him. She hated getting in first, but she never put up much of a fight when Roy decided to indulge his inner gentleman. There was no point, and he'd only do it more if she said anything about it.

The engine roared, and the rubble began to disappear in the distance. The car was quiet as they headed down the street. Roy tapped his gloved finger on his thigh, thinking.

"That Ishvarite…he was only killing State-licensed alchemists," he said. Riza, who'd begun polishing her gun, peered up at him from under her lashes. Even with tinted windows, the sun managed to catch on her earring, lighting up the side of her face.

"You think this was because of the war?"

She asked the question, but it was obvious she'd known the answer. She went back to polishing her gun, a crooked smile on her lips. Roy turned to look out the window, and the beginnings of a migraine reared its ugly head. If he didn't have his coffee in the morning, his mind drifted. It wandered through past memories. When he had his coffee, even if he ending up ditching work, the caffeine kept him focused on what was happening right at that moment. He didn't have to remember the smell of charred flesh, going all day focused solely on the living of the present. There were no ghosts that coffee couldn't thwart.

_But what do you do when your day-to-day becomes chasing a ghost?_

He sighed, looking at the buildings of Amestris pass him by. Looking at those brownstones, and the state buildings made him sick on some days. He loved his country, and he loved his little family even more. But the things he'd done to maintain still affected him. It affected all of them, and they all coped. Iamar took to paranoia, and those damned cigarettes. Roy, he got up every morning, and he told himself he'd moved a step closer to attaining the Führer's chair. He told himself, that he'd taken another step to fixing a broken country. Sometimes, he indulged himself, and said he was a step closer to fixing himself and those around him. And then he drank his cup of coffee, and that was what he'd focus on for the rest of the day.

But today there'd been no affirmation, and no cup of coffee. So here he was, looking at his city with a hand unconsciously held over his nose.

"It's funny how old monsters come back, isn't it?" Riza asked. She'd continued polishing her gun, working over the areas she'd already swiped. He looked at her, and at the gun. Her hands shook, though only slightly, as she wiped the handkerchief over the cool metal.

"Why do you do that? It's clean enough Lieutenant," he said, hand still over his nose and mouth. Her hands kept moving, pale yellow cloth sailing over the weapon. He noticed the bunny in the corner of the handkerchief, smiling at Iamar's little insignia. He'd seen Armstrong with one before they'd left to escort the Elric brothers to Resembool. He wondered if maybe he should ask for one. It seemed to bring the others a little comfort. Riza didn't look up, just kept working. Her silence was thoughtful, and Roy waited before speaking again.

"It helps me feel clean."

Riza put the handkerchief in her pocket, and turned the gun over in the light.

"If I clean this, I polish a memory brand new. It I don't keep this gun absolutely spotless, my mind - and my memories - get muddy. Polishing this helps me keep everything sharp. If I'm always remembering the mistakes of the past, maybe I'll see something new and use it to better myself." She shrugged, putting the gun into her holster. Roy's head was throbbing, and the smell was overpowering now. It clung to everything : his clothes, his hair, his skin. He shook his head, looking out as they approached the Military building. The peppermint had been his only tool to ward of the stench, and even that began to fade. The car came to a slow stop, and Riza got out of the car.

She came around, opening the door. She offered him a hand, taking his in her hand before he could object. She squeezed it in hers, letting it go when he got up.

"If there's one seeing Scar the first time taught me," Riza said as they moved through the building,"It's that this is one of many consequences of the things we've done. And these are things that we'll deal with for the rest of our lives." Roy moved his hand from his face, opening the door to his office. Despite being obviously agitated, he was listening as best he could to what his Lieutenant was saying. She flicked the lights on, highlighting the emptiness of his office. Most of his men were back at the explosion site, and he was partially glad for that.

High concentrations of people tended to make the smell heavier.

He shook his head again, sitting at his desk. Riza removed his overcoat from his shoulders and put it on the rack in the corner. She then turned on her heels and left the room.

He thought about calling after her. His head was swimming, and the Colonel felt like he was going to be sick. He did not want to be alone, with the smell or his own thoughts. Not right now. He suddenly regretted even getting up. If he'd just stayed in bed, he could have waken up to breakfast and a back massage. He wouldn't have to worry about the smell of death if he'd stayed in bed. The stench would have been drowned out by pancakes, light perfume, and cigar smoke.

But he had to do this, had to get up. If he hadn't gotten up, he wouldn't be one step closer. Sure, the smell was there, and it drove him insane.

_But now I'm alone, and I'm still here. Still going strong..._

He shakily looked down at his gloved hands, and the suddenly bile rose in the back of his throat. He took his gloves off, putting them in the drawer of his desk. He put his bare hands to his face, taking a deep breath. His headache made his skull thump, and in the distance he heard the door of the main room open. His office door opened, and a familiar smell swirled around the room. Through the slits in his hands, he saw Riza's quickly place something on his desk before moving away.

A new smell flooded his sense.

"Get started. Like you said, the faster you do this, the faster we can leave."

She placed a Styrofoam cup, full of coffee, onto his desk. She sat at her own desk, nodding at him. He took the cup in his hands. He brought it to his lips, the white noise in his head deafening as hot liquid filled his mouth and burned his tongue. It was bitter, with no creamer and very little sugar. But it was the way he liked it. He felt the jolt to his system, and the mocha smell completely wiped away the smell of fire and ash from his skin.

He realized he'd been smiling, though only slightly. While he'd been caught up in the coffee, Riza brought him a pile of papers, and Roy looked up at her in confusion.

"I only came to fill the report, what's this?" The lieutenant smiled, turning to return to her desk.

"You've been letting your work pile up, Colonel. Now that you're here, I think it's best you take care of it."

Roy's turned into a frown. He'd forgotten he left this weeks work up to them….knowing Riza, she was probably waiting for an opportunity to make him do it. He looked at Riza, then at his half-done report.

_I could finish this, maybe excuse myself 'to the bathroom'..._

The next thing he heard was the cocked of her pistol, and he looked at her in time for him to see as she placed it on the desk.

Even though his head was still pounding, he smiled, taking pen to paper.


	7. Dublith, Pt I

AN: The next two chapters will cover the rest of Dublith, and then Ch. 9 will begin covering the start of all the happenings in Central. Moving on to the important stuff FINALLY!

* * *

"So, what was so important you showed up on such short notice?" The woman said as she poured tea for herself and Iamar. She was short, barely hitting the five-foot mark. Her peppered grey hair was in short dreads, stopping just below her ear. Despite being older, she was still trim and lightly muscled. On her bare arms, she had transmutation tattoos from her shoulder down to the backs of her freckled hands.

She regarded Iamar with dark brown eyes, and a raised brow as she stirred her tea.

Iamar looked into her cup, wrinkling her nose.

"Ma, you know I don't even drink tea." The woman smiled, putting sugar into Iamar's cup. They sat in a small but homey kitchen, in front of the bay window.

"You grew up on tea. I know you're used to living on liquor and those cigarettes, but it's good to cleanse every once in a while."

"Look, I think a master cleanse in that nice new bathroom of yours is the last thing you want." Her mother, Thea, laughed. She then pointed to a cabinet off behind her. Iamar got up, walking to open it. Inside was liquor, mostly brandy and gin. It was the good kind. Her father only spent real money on alcohol. After all, he'd spent a good part of his life catering to high-ranking officials. Brandy was a favorite of the higher ups.

Didn't mean she had to like any of it. Iamar always preferred whiskey, scotch, occasionally rum. Gin made her weepy, and brandy was too sweet.

"I know you hate brandy, and I'm not too big a fan either. Whatever you find, pour me some as well. I know he buys other things for when you come to visit, it should be in the back." She found whiskey, grabbed two lowball glasses, and filled them with ice.

"You never answered my question, Marmalade." Iamar groaned. That nickname caused her actual, physical pain. She'd remembered all the teasing she'd gotten as a kid because of that. But she called her that, come rain or shine. Thea loved marmalade, and she loved her daughter.

_Don't know why she calls me that anyway, I'm allergic…._

She rolled her eyes and emptied her glass, then poured herself another before going to the table. She looked at Thea, fine lines embedded in her brown face. She passed her the other glass, but the older woman put it to the side. She quickly began working on what had been Iamar's tea.

"So, what's up? You never show up like this. You give us at least a week's notice. Then you call at the crack of dawn, and get here by dusk. Your father said you sounded upset." Iamar waved her hand, sipping on her drink. She'd worn her sleeveless turtleneck, cargos, and work boots for the trip. She'd considered putting on her wig and contacts, but didn't think herself in any real trouble yet.

_After I get done in Central, I may need to start being more careful._ She swirled the amber liquid, before putting down her glass. She tapped foot, drummed her fingers on the table.

Being on the train made her feel antsy, and she was itching to smoke. It'd been worse this time, since she got on by herself. Usually she rented a car for her trips down here, but it'd been too early. She'd taken the first train out, and tore through her box of cigarettes the whole way. There was one left, and she wanted it.

Her mother would drown her if she smoked in the house though.

So, Iamar took out a stick of gum, and began chewing incessantly. Her mother looked at her with a venomous stare. She hated gum nearly as much as she hated cigarettes. Iamar shrugged, kept chewing.

"It's an oral thing Ma, you know that. Anyway, I got some intel, put me on edge. It could be nothing, but…just don't feel right."

Thea nodded, finishing Iamar's tea and moving for the lowball glass.

"Can I ask what it is?"

Iamar shook her head. Thea threw back the amber liquid. Iamar poured her mother another automatically. Her mother twisted her face up as she tried to ward off the taste, but she made a noise to show she understood what her daughter was saying.

"Military stuff, okay. Well, if you can't tell me what it is, can you tell me why it has you upset? "

Iamar didn't answer right away. She was working through a way to explain without telling her explicitly. She never discussed the hard details of work with Thea. Partly for her mother's safety, and partly because she knew her mother didn't really want to know. The older woman put a hand over her daughter's, patting the transmutation circle there.

"Cyril thought maybe you'd started seeing things again. I understand -"

Iamar snatched her hand away from her's to sit in a balled fist in her lip. Annoyance began to bubble up and out, branching off into each part of her body.

"I haven't seen anything in years." The soldier said icily. Thea kept her hand extended, waiting for her response.

"It involves Izzy's boys," she started. .

"The two kids she used to teach? Are they okay?"

Iamar nodded, staring at the wood grain of the table. She was _so_ angry all of a sudden. She'd been fine, in a good mood when Thea brought her home.

Now, she wanted to go out and set something on fire. She hated when either of her parents talked about things like that. The episodes, the breakdown, the rage.. the way her parents brought it up just made her see red. Neither of them had even seen war, they talked about everything that'd happened to her made her damaged goods.

Her father had enough sense to just not bring it up around her, she'd give him credit for that. He'd been a military man, after all.

In her mother's case, she brought it up at the most irritating times. Iamar sometimes felt it was to browbeat her about ever joining the military in the first place. She made her feel like the things that happened after had been her own fault, karmic payback for everything she'd done during the war. After all, she was Ishvalan, if only by blood. Her grandparents moved to the island her mother wa born on to practice alchemy freely. By all account, they'd been a family of sinners. Still, Thea made her feel like a traitor to a religion and culture she'd never even known.

_If you wanted me to feel worse than I already did about it, you would have raised me to at least know my ancestors. You think it doesn't bother me? Well, I got news for you. It bothers me. But I did some good. I saved some Ishvalan people, including you! You think they would have taken you back in knowing you're an alchemist, knowing who your husband was at the time? _

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was being mean. She'd never say any of the things she thought, but she knew Thea always thought of returning one day. She'd visited when Iamar was little, mostly her great-grandmother and eventually friends. None of them knew she'd been an alchemist, and that she'd married a Military official. After her dad retired, she'd wanted to live in Ishval. But by then Iamar was already on her way there to fight on the front line.

But that didn't matter. She wasn't going to dwell on it, because it made her feel things she hadn't felt since then. So, she took a swig of her drink. The alcohol went down like fire, burning a small chunk of calm energy down into her core. She let it spread to warm her toes and fingers. She gulped down the rest, and the anger subsided…somewhat. Thea gave Iamar her glass, and turned her extended hand palm up.

"If you don't want to talk about your job with me, I understand. I'm sorry, I've never had to deal with this kind of thing from your father." Iamar glanced at her open hand, took it.

"I'll bring it up with the old man later," she started,"and it's fine. Anyway, the basic gist is this : The boys joined the military, looking for something that was made during the war. It has great power, but they don't want it for some big ass plan to like… take over the world. They're good kids, Ma, sweet. And they don't have too much in the world except each other. They're Izzy's to boot, so I gotta help them. I escort em home, and they meet a doctor who was stationed in Ishval with me. He was working on what it is they wanted, told them the information they needed to know to recreate what they want is in one of our research libraries in Central City right?"

Thea nodded vigorously, eyes narrowing as she listened for the next chunk of information.

"Something happened to the library that kept the boys from getting to it," she said. Iamar nodded, letting her hand go to use them while she talked.

"Yep. Now, maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it's just a weird coincidence. But I'm not _feelin_ it Ma. Me and Alex dropped those kids off a day before they were supposed to go to the library. That same night, it burns down under 'unknown circumstances'. And! I checked the records. The Central research library is full of a bunch of lightweight stuff, simple experiments and social papers. There were quite a lot of cookbooks there too, so nothing too nitty-gritty. But the doc said he'd hidden it there, in a way nobody would suspect."

"So you think somebody knew they were coming, and what they were coming for?" she paused,"And you think this is an inside thing?"

"Exactly! That's why I was so on edge. I can't tell you exactly what the thing is, but it's a big deal…and potentially dangerous. The only way anybody could have known it was there was if they'd been looking for it themselves…and if they were in the military as well. Not to mention, places don't just go up in flames 'mysteriously', _especially_ not in Central. Unless, of course, there's a little brass behind it. And I don't know who yet. This is small, but it's the beginning of something, I know it is."

Thea nodded, mind working furiously. She believed her daughter, but she also knew she didn't come down here just to chat theories and intuition.

"Whatever is going on, you're gonna have to tell Cy. You'll have to give him _something_. If anyone comes running down here, they'll go to him for answers. But if he doesn't need to be, don't involve him. Now, what do you think you need to do with the information you have?"

"I want the keys to Grandpa's old place by the lake. And," she slipped a small box to Thea,"when I tell you to...go. If this thing gets worse - and I got a feeling it will - eventually, I'm going to be watched. You guys will be watched. The auto shop will be watched. I've worked for years to be able get you two out of here when and if the time came. When I tell you to drop everything and get out, do it." Thea took the box in her hand with a raised brow.

"It's a bit soon for talk about getting out of the country." she said. Iamar shrugged, leaned back against her seat.

"Might be too soon, but I'd rather be too soon than too late. Protect yourselves. You know I'll be fine, but I can't promise the same for you if you don't do what I say. I'm going to Central soon to see, but…I just have a bad feeling." Thea opened the box, pulling out passports and other identification papers. She looked down at them, then up at her daughter

"Well," she said," can't say you aren't ever prepared. So, that's it?"

Iamar nodded, tracing the rim of her glass. She knew Thea would listen and do as she said. Her mother could persuade Cyril to go along with her demands as well. She knew this all seemed sudden and tense, but it was something she'd felt was long in coming. Being in the military had taught her to be prepared, and to trust her instinct above all else. She knew her mother was taken aback, but she would not go against her if she knew Iamar felt so strongly about this.

Both women had sharp intuition, although Iamar's was often written off as paranoia. Thea knew something bad was under the surface, about to rear it's ugly head.

The women looked at one another, eyes meeting in understanding. Despite their own shortcomings, and tension, they trusted one another to do what was right. Iamar continued speaking.

"I'm gonna stay here the night. I need to go visit Jason and the kids at the shop. I gotta make some calls, cause I'm going to Central right after -" Just then, the door opened. Iamar heard the swinging of plastic bags and heavy footsteps.

"Marmalade!"

Her father came through the entryway and into the kitchen. His blue eyes twinkled as he moved towards Iamar. The mood lightened considerably when he stepped into the kitchen. He jammed his large body through the doorway, dropping his groceries unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor. His smile lit up the room as he looked first to Thea, then his daughter.

"You okay? I didn't know how long you'd be staying, so I brought some stuff for dinner. Tee thought it'd be nice for me to cook." He was a big man, tall and heavily muscled with neat grey hair. Since he'd retired from his position at South Headquarters two years ago, he'd gone from his usual uniform to ugly floral shirts and shorts.

He had them in all different colors, and if Thea didn't coordinate them, they often ended up horribly mismatched. With a large hand, he pulled Iamar into a hug. She patted his broad back, totally engulfed by the bigger man.

"It's cool. I'll be here tonight, I'm leavin in the morning Poppa."

"You usually stay the weekend! C'mon, I missed you this morning. I was gonna fire up the grill for you. Stay, come fishing with me tomorrow!" Iamar laughed, breaking out of her hug. Thea moved with the small box, off to some hidden corner of her kitchen. As she passed, she patted her daughter's back.

"You can bug your daughter later. She was on her way out of the door." He looked down at her with his best impression of a sad dog. He gasped a little, seeing she was no longer in his arms. Iamar laughed behind him, retrieving the keys from the floor.

She winked at the old man, then walked out of the door.


	8. Dublith, Pt II

AN: Once again I'd like to thank **_missantagonist1_**. She's an angel, and a big help to me! The Dublith chapters are pretty long, including the next one before we go to Central. Off topic, I'm thinking about writing a Blue Exorcist story…Mephisto/OC/implied-Satan pairing? Hmmm….anywho, enjoy!

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Mastodon Auto was a small shop situated on the corner of Dublith Square. It was divided into three floors: an apartment on the top, the garage and office on the ground level, and a basement below. Above the garage was a painted sign with the company name and it's logo a Mastodon parked in the grass lot in the back, and walked up to the front. She was still kind of tense after speaking with her mother. Even the warm breeze couldn't do much to assuage some of her anxiety.

_And they say talkin' it out makes it better_, she thought, _what a crock of shit._

She sucked on her cigarette as she traced the red brick of the side of the building with a finger. The windows of the apartment above were open, and she could hear a radio inside playing a swinging jazz tune. There was the laughter of children as well, and the clamoring of pots and pans. Inside the garage, two or three guys moved around, tending to the cars that sat up on the ramps. The clattering of tools went in perfect harmony with the jazz upstairs.

Iamar walked to stand beside one of the men, who was lying underneath one of the cars. Underneath the cherry red sports mobile, the tinkering of metal stopped. He scooted down, until his face was visible from beneath the car.

"Hey Jason," she said, offering the man a tattooed hand. He took it, andshook her hand heartily before patting her on the back.

Jason was very hairy, and very blonde. He was of average height, stocky, and a pretty sweet guy.

"Hey to you too! What gives? You don't usually show up announced." Iamar nodded to the office. Jason whistled, getting the other men's attention.

"Boss is here. Emil, "he said to one of the men,"finish up on the red joint for me. I told the owner he could come by tonight before closing. Make sure Rick sweeps up, and have somebody count and lock the register."

Iamar waved at the others, puffing away on her cigarette. The pair walked quickly into the office, locking the door behind them. The lock was broken, had been for years, but the other men in the shop didn't know that. The only people who used the office were her and Jason. She took a seat behind the desk, and Jason sat in front of her. He eyed her cigarette, and Iamar offered him one.

"Can't smoke in the garage. The wife'll have my head, says she don't want the boys picking up the habit." Iamar smiled and put the cigarette down in front him on the desk.

"We're not in the garage, we're in the office."

He laughed at that, and Iamar lit his cigarette for him. She and Jason had been old friends, having grown up in the neighborhood. She'd learned about cars from his father, and they'd swore as kids to open up a shop together. Later on, Iamar joined the military, but she put up the cash for Jason to start their business to make good on their childhood promise.

"What's up Iamar? What do you need?" He looked at her through narrowed brown eyes. She scratched her chin, relaxed into her seat.

"Not much. You trust the other guys, right Jason?"

"Wouldn't have hired em if I didn't trust em. Why?" He was going through his cigarette quickly- probably in case the kids came downstairs, as they often did. He spat the butt in the trash and sat back, crossing his hairy arms. Iamar put out her own cigarette, throwing it in the trash. She turned on the fan beside her, and sprayed air freshener.

_Can't be a negative influence on the kiddies, after all._

"I may be transporting some more eyes down here. I got word there might be some trouble at my job - minor stuff - so I figured we'd need some more people down here to watch the South Headquarters. And by more, I mean _different_ kinda eyes." She raised her brows up and down.

Jason just stared, still lost. Iamar smiled, leaning forward on the desk. Jason was a good man, straight-laced and a little uptight to the point of being clueless. Which made it so much fun to poke and tease him sometimes.

"You and the guys can only do so much with fixing the military cars. The Majors and Southern officials will only say so much to a garage of burly ass men." She smiled at his surprised expression. His face went between that same surprise, then fear, then interest, then all back again.

"Uh, girls? Like females? What, you plan on running a brothel out of the shop?" He looked out the window of the office then back at her "The guys in the shop'll love it…but I live here. Maddy'll-"

"Oh shut up. I'm not gonna do that to you or Medea. The girls will be in a different place. I'm just telling you cause they'll be relaying any info they get to you. I want you to take the guys, clean up this place,"she slid him the address to her grandfather's home. Jason took it, slipped it in his pocket. "Also, the time may come I won't be able to visit too much, so you need to figure out a way to get the information to me. I need that spot cleaned _and_ furnished within the next couple weeks. I'll have Thea bring the key. Whatever you need put in there, I'll pay for it."

Just then the door opened, and two boys ran into the office giggling. They were twins, small and blonde with curly hair and brown eyes. She heard another pair of footsteps quickly coming down the stairs. The boys, giggling, hid underneath the desk. Iamar looked at them both, raising a finger to her lips. They stifled their laughter, as a brunette woman came through the door.

"Aurik! Jeff! What did I say about disturbing Daddy when he's- oh, I didn't know you'd be in town Iamar!" Medea stopped momentarily in her search for the boys to smile at Iamar.

Iamar smiled and waved, standing to walk over to Jason's wife. They hugged, and the boys erupted from under the desk to hug both their legs.

"Hey Maddy, boys! I know I didn't call. I just came by to drop some things off for the shop, collect some bills." She said, leaning over to swipe a pile of bills off the desk. She didn't really need them, but Medea would worry if she didn't have an explicit reason.

Jason blushed, waving timidly at his wife.

Despite them being together long enough to produce two six-year-olds, he managed to be a blushing pool of emotions around his wife. Maddy smiled back at him, dark eyes seeming to light up. She grabbed her boys by the collar, her smile turning into a laugh. The two kids laughed with her, holding onto Iamar's pants leg as they were pulled away by their mother.

"Auntie Marmalade!" Aurik cried, looking up at her with big eyes,"Ya gonna take us to the zoo tomorrow?"

Iamar smiled and reached down to pick up the boy. Of course, Jeff wanted to be picked as well. With both boys in her arms, Iamar felt the familiar pang she often fought off. Little kids were her weak spot, they made her feel all fertile and needy for motherhood.

But the two brothers were so sweet, she couldn't resist.

She got to live vicariously through Jason and Medea, and it made her feel a little better. But the pang was still there, and it made her think of Roy. She kissed each boy on the cheek, squeezing them to her. She just wanted to kiss and hug them and buy them ice cream, and it kind of stung that she had to leave so soon. Usually she spent at least a whole day with the twins when she visited, this short visit wasn't something she was used to.

_So cute, so sweet…goddamn kids._

"No, Auntie can't. Not this time. She's gotta go back to work tomorrow. But! When Auntie comes to visit again, she'll take you to the zoo…maybe Mommy will let me bring home one of the elephants."

Jeff tugged on her ear, thoughtful.

"Don't bring an elephant Auntie…I just want a puppy. Rik wants an elephant, but a puppy is better."

"Well, if Mommy lets me, I'll bring you a _thousand_ puppies…_and_ the elephant!"She gushed, squeezing both boys again. Both of them howled in delight at the thought of puppies and elephants, and their mother coughed and took both boys away from her.

"Uh, maybe next time. Now, isn't it time for naps? hmm? Yes, nap time! Say goodbye to Auntie Marmalade! Say bye to Auntie!" Medea smiled, turning on her heel. Both boys lay their heads on her shoulders, waving at Iamar. They seemed drained, as if 'nap time' was a trigger phrase. Iamar waved, the pang hitting low in her stomach again.

_Maybe it wouldn't be so bad…Roy, kids… I- nope. Not going there right now. _

She shook her head violently, looking back to Jason. He was watching, seeming to know what she was going through.

"How's that boyfriend of yours Mar?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I dunno Iamar. You're a good-lookin woman. You're good with the kids, successful, and a war hero. I was happy when you told me you'd been dating that guy. Now you been with the mystery man for a while, why don't you settle down? The job's not that demanding now that the war's over, right?"

Iamar turned abruptly, walking out of the office. Behind her Jason laughed. It was a conversation he started a thousand times, and one Iamar ignored without fail.

"Goodnight Boss!" He called. The men bid their goodnight as well, as Iamar walked off into the dark. Over head, the swinging jazz turned into classical, and there was the smell of dinner being made. It made Iamar feel a little lonely.

She'd thought about kids sometimes, Mustang talked about kids… but she wasn't ready, even now. And it's not like she had much time left to be ready. She sighed, and took a piece of gum out of her pockets. Thinking about families and kids, she hadn't noticed the form sitting up against her father's car.

"So," the voice said,"You just gonna come and go without even telling me?"

xXx

"Ma! Poppa!" Iamar called, moving into the kitchen. The back door was open, and the smell of grilling meat and vegetables filled the air. She turned to her companions, nodding in the direction of the back yard. The trio walked through the kitchen, moving into the yard.

Thea was in front of her small greenhouse, setting places on their picnic table. Cyril was on the porch, cooking away. He turned to the biggest of the three, a glow entering his eyes. The man moved forward to get closer to Cyril. Iamar sighed, as the two men stood in front of one another, flexing their pecs at one another.

"Is that a muscle-man thing, Izumi? The muscle flexing?" Iamar said, shaking her head.

Izumi laughed beside her, watching as Sig and Cyril did their odd muscle-oriented ritual.

"Sig doesn't see another man as dedicated as himself often, I think it's kinda cute." Izumi said as she watched with a proud expression on her face.

The two men flexed and posed, grunting as the three women watched. After what seemed like a long while - too long, in Iamar's opinion- they shook hands and hugged one another.

Iamar shook her head again, a little creeped out. Cyril was no better on the rare occasion he crossed paths with Armstrong.

_Now that I think about it…he might be worse when he sees Armstrong._

She chalked it up to camaraderie.

_It's still weird though_, the soldier thought.

"Izumi! You got my call!" Thea smiled, forcing Iamar out of her thoughts.

"Ma, you sold me out to this old bag?"

Thea only smiled, and Iamar felt the heat from Izumi's glare on her back.

"Oh stop! Izzy and Sig are practically family! Besides, I knew you wouldn't call her yourself." Thea added under her breath.

Izumi peered at Iamar over her shoulder, breathing into the woman's ear. Iamar swatted her away like a gnat.

"And even if this crow didn't call me, she'd be upset we didn't come visit! Emotionally constipated as always this one. Thank you, Thea, for the invitation to your always lovely home!"Izumi said.

She pushed Iamar down the steps to walk to the table. Iamar glared at Thea on her way, then Izumi.

Knowing her mother, she probably called Izumi at the butcher shop as soon as Iamar left…maybe earlier.

She was right though: Iamar wasn't gonna tell her she was here.

And, although she hadn't called, she was going to expect Izumi and Sig to come over. It was weird, but still.

Thea motioned for the two women to sit, and she walked off to give them a little time to catch up. Luckily, there was a drink at Iamar's seat. With some alcohol in her, she knew she could handle 'catching-up' with her fiery old friend.

"So, why the sudden appearance? You finally engaged?"

Iamar ignored the question, savoring her drink.

_All these marriage question lately…jeez...maybe this is a sign._

"That Flame Alchemist finally trapped you in, huh? You tell your dad? Where's the ring?" Izumi snickered as a smarmy grin spread on her face.

Iamar spat her drink onto the ground. She was surprised, but she knew if she got it on the table, her mom would kill her for ruining the wood.

"Hush! I'm not engaged you old hack!" Iamar hissed.

Izumi was still smiling, looking her up and down. She put a hand on Iamar's head.

"Well, if he hasn't got you yet, why are you here? You sick? You quitting that desk job? And this is the longest I've seen your hair in years…." Izumi said, running her hand through the short silver fuzz.

Iamar poured herself another drink, not bothering to move Izumi's hand out of her short hair. She had let it grow a little, but it was only temporary.

"I'm just busy. Haven't been able cut it. I'll cut it off before it gets too long."

"Maybe you shouldn't. It was nice long. It might help you catch a husband!" Izumi cackled.

Iamar slurped her drink loudly. It'd always been like this, Izumi teasing her about something.

To be fair, Iamar hardly took it lying down.

"Not all of us are trying to settle down with some meathead husband. At least," Iamar added,"I still have my looks. It's not like you had much of a choice in whether or not you'd be single into your thirtie."

Izumi's face turned sour, and her eyebrow twitched.

"What are you tryna say, _Marmalade_?"

Iamar ignored the mocking way the other woman used her nickname, snorting. She took her time replying to Izumi, finishing her drink and pouring herself another.

"Oh Izzy, you had crows feet by your eighteenth birthday! Sig was doing us a favor. You get a husband, I get all the young men to myself!" Iamar laughed.

"Youthful appearance is hardly important when you've spent most of your life looking like a little boy!" Izumi protested through gritted teeth. The hand that was in her hair drilled down on her scalp as Izumi gave her the worst noogie Iamar ever had.

Iamar gave Izumi her most withering glance. The two women stared at one another, waiting for the other to blink first. The men and Thea moved closer behind them. Neither woman spoke, putting their all into their little contest.

"Now, you two have been at it since you were little girls! Even now, a staring contest? Cut it out!" Thea called. There was movement, and Sig spoke.

"Izumi, my sweet, please stop."

"Wait, now hold on,"Cyril said,"I think we need to just let them work it out."

Iamar's brow was twitching furiously. Izumi looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"They've _never_ managed to work it out!" Thea protested"If Sig wasn't in the picture, they probably would have married each other. Always bickering!" Sig laughed, and Iamar felt the desire to protest that claim. In her peripheral, Cyril put down the platters of food, and turned to speak to Thea.

"Well Tee it wouldn't make much of a difference who she married. Like you said, the girl is damn near our daughter as it is. Now, Sig...you a betting man?" Thea gasped, and then there was a loud thud.

"Hyperion Cyril Mastodon, you are not betting on a staring contest between two grown women! This is almost as stupid as those cockfights you've gotten into!"

"Now Tee, do you have to start with the name thing? Christ, you haven't called me Hyperion in years. Besides, cockfights are pretty intense, if you'd just go to one…."

Izumi glanced behind Iamar, smiling. The next thing Iamar knew, Iamar knew sailing across the lawn. She had forgotten Izumi's hand was still in her hair.

Iamar thought about using her alchemy to cushion her fall…but Cyril's pride and joy was his lawn…he'd be crushed. And when Cyril was crushed, Thea was angry. She let herself hit the ground, surprised even now by Izumi's strength. As she picked herself up, she heard Izumi calling.

"Come to dinner now, my little bald spinster!" Her voice was sugary, almost syrupy with the victory. Iamar moved to retaliate against her, but the glowering stare from her mother and the rumble in her stomach made her think better of it. There'd be another time to get back at her. Right now, she was hungry. She took her place beside Izumi, cutting her red eyes at her.

Izumi caught her stare, smiled. She poured Iamar another drink, and rubbed grass off her back.

"You look good, for an old unmarried hack. Welcome home" Izumi added, sipping her own drink. Iamar blushed, took a sip of her drink. She noticed one of Izumi's dreads had fallen into her plate. She tucked it behind her ear for her, flicked a piece of food away. Thea caught the pair making up.

"I told you. Married couple."

Iamar groaned, digging into her food. The night air was crisp, nice as the group ate dinner together. Even though there was pain spouting of her back from the hard landing she'd taken, this was one of the rare times Iamar felt at ease.

She chewed through her steak, smiling to herself as she joined the other's lively conversation.

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AN #2: Hyperion and Thea were two Titans in Greek mythology, who birthed Selene (Iamar's code name in Roy's book). The name Hyperion is so extra for me, so I'll usually just call her dad Cyril (he'll only be called by his whole name in situations when/if he upsets his wife). Hope you enjoyed!


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